


And I'm Not Supposed To Be Here

by calcium_rods



Series: Mild Vent Fics [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: im sorry cub :(, is anything going on? no. <3, minecraft illager, whoops its a vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcium_rods/pseuds/calcium_rods
Summary: Cub was taken by some illagers. They taught him magic. He wasn't supposed to be there.
Series: Mild Vent Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984636
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	And I'm Not Supposed To Be Here

He wasnt one of them. He was never going to fit in, and that stupid little gift wasn't helping any.

  
Cub had never been a villager. He was shorter than everyone else and learned the language of the Players. Even now with the illagers treating him like a puppet, his little  
magic fading, he wasnt one of them.

  
But there had to be somewhere for him. Cub wanted to go where the characters in Iskall's stories went; magical realms, or even somewhere better than where he was. Cub didnt deserve to be there. He was clearly an impostor; smaller than the illagers, brighter eyes, warm blood. And yet, he wasn't a villager anymore. Cub also couldn't be a player; few of them had large noses, cared about speaking the language, and were able to craft enchanted books like he could. He also couldn't be a villager; his nose was too small, eyes a different shade, and he had managed to learn _evoker_ magic, something nobody else knew. Something that could kill him.

Maybe he wanted to go home deep down, even if the only homes he had ever known were lonely. Maybe the vex in his pocket was his only friend, and maybe that was alright. Perhaps he could leave it all behind... yet he knew he was lonely.

  
But that left Iskall. Maybe Iskall leaving him was his friend's fault, but Cub missed their old talks, exploring the world to get away from the pillagers. Cub longed to hide in the confines of a different home with worn spruce walls, holding the player who reminded him that 'death wasn't an option' close. He missed the bursts of magic hey would use to make it day. He wanted to be _home,_ even if it wasn't a place.

  
The clock on the wall chimed, signalling that it was midnight. The illagers would be back, throwing down the loot they had gained from their successful raid. Cub rubbed his eyes and yawned. Even if he wasn't tired, sleep was better than being with the illagers and his own thoughts.


End file.
